Club holidays aren’t really en vogue, all with independent and adventouros traveling (complete with the newest extreme sport) being the thing of the moment. Going to another country, just to spend weeks at the pool seems kind of uncool. Whereas for some people club holidays imply sun, food, and stressless chilling, for others it means screaming children, survival fights at the buffet and tideous boredom.
I myself haven’t had one in ages but when the opportunity arose (read: the parents were paying), I took it.
It’s time to round up my time in Mallorca with my favourite place in Palma: Ca’n Joan de S’aigo.
Palma de Mallorca is a great city, with tons of things to do (and eat). It’s also a city that seduces you with hammocks.
On the way to my favourite café in Palma (which I’ll keep a secret for now) we always pass my favourite shop in the whole city. It sells hammocks and little else (or I’m blinded by the shiny and they really only sell two – could well be). I swear it’s the same hammock I fell in love with 4 years ago. Just look at this beauty (I’m talking about the shiny white one):
To be fair, this hammock rules because of its location: I probably won’t look at it twice if I had it in my backgarden (if I had a backgarden, that is – you can see the problem?). But let’s move on to the other things you can do in Palma.
I’m a complete sucker for markets of every kind so when I heard there was one in Artá, I was up at 7 am sharp and shoved my family into the car. Of course I could have taken the bus, which would have made a far more exciting blog post but: 7 am. Those of you who know me know I would have probably ended up in Morocco, if I had tried to travel anywhere on my own in the middle of the night (hence the more interesting post). But as my mother wanted to go there too, my father and sister knew not to put up a fight, so off we went.
Behold the picture everybody and their dogs take when visiting Artá. They, of course, take it from the right side of the street so they won’t have the power lines cutting through the picture, but what can I say: I’m a rebel.
Mallorca has lots of awesome food to offer. They love to cook with pork and lamb and, being an island, with tons of fresh fish and seefood. Mallorca seduced me to try ray for the first time but even though it was perfectly grilled, it was probably my last time.
… just how much work the whole blogging business is.
Well, fine, fair enough, everybody warned me. But I believed I was finally all grown-up and responsible and would totally kick ass – yeah, not so much. Aehm. Turns out, I still love my couch a bit too much and when it comes to procrastination I’m, like, the fucking master.
But I promise, that, from now on, I’ll be
totally awesome better about the whole updating business and delight you with tales of Scotland, Mallorca and me adventures with various airlines (those are going to be gruesome, no kidding). And now, have a virtual cookie and a picture (also kinda virtual).
This is no ordinary palm (as if I would ever dare to bore you with an ordinary palm), but a home to three tree rats – they’re the cutest things that ever threatened to jump in my drink. The palm stands in the garden of a small bar. The tree rats come out at night and the first time you see them running around they make you wonder just how much you’ve already had. I couldn’t find anything on them in English, but if you want to see pictures go here. They were damn fast and I didn’t manage to take a single even half-decent picture of them.
We spent an delightful evening in the bar Sa Sania, sipping our drinks and watching the tree rats running around. You can find Sa Sania it in Font de sa Cala, between the All-Inclusive clubs, but when you’re sitting under the palm tree you forget that your in a tourist hell. The owner is a great guy, a good cook and owner of the cutest dog in history, so if you happen to be in the area, drop by and try his gambas.
Earlier on I promised you all a picture post and here it is. Behold.
After seemingly endless weeks of rain, clouds and people groaning about the clouds and the rain, summer arrived and the last two weeks we could finally bitch about the inhuman 37°C that made doing anything else then hiding in the shadows (preferable at a lake) and eating our own bodyweight in ice-cream suicidal.